Next To Where I Shower
by torchwoodtimelord
Summary: The Tardis is in a bathroom. Yet another cract!fic of crack!tastic Doctor Who stuff. And no, there's nothing naughty about this despite the name! - FROZEN
1. Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMER:**I don't own Doctor Who. It's owned, copyrighted, trademarked, and all sorts of fun things by the almighty lords and Masters at the BBC. However, this is pure crack!fic and yeah.... crack!tastic.

* * *

Mark was sitting in his kitchen, just about to enjoy a nice hot cup of coffee before finishing his term paper when he heard a strange noise comming from his bathroom.

Now, it was a rather old apartment building. And he was paying practically dirt-cheap rent, so hearing strange noises in any of the rooms wasn't all that odd to begin with.

At first, he thought it must have been his phone, since his ring tone sounded like an engine from his favorite television show. He turned around in his little plastic chair and snatched his phone from the counter, flipping it open.

No new calls. No messages. Nothing.

Then, he heard the sound again. Staring at his phone, he blinked in confusion before looking around. Maybe he'd left his computer on in the other room. After all, he was a complete nerd, and did like to change the music and sounds on the old desktop just because he knew how.

He was passing by his bathroom on his way to the small room in the back he'd claimed as his bedroom when he heard a voice, muffled by the old door.

He shook his head, deciding he was just hearing things. If his roommates were home, they would no doubt tease him for his little patch of paranoia.

He continued on to his room, checking his computer. No, it wasn't that. It was actually turned off. It wasn't his phone, computer, not even his CD player with burned music and sound effects. Laughing at himself, he sighed and turned, heading back to the kitchen.

When he passed the bathroom door, it swung open and the initial shock of surprise nearly gave the poor young man a heart attack.

"Ah! That's better!" the man exclaimed. "Though why we landed in the bathroom is anyone's guess..." He looked up and down the hall, then noticed the young man with his hand pressed against the wall for support. "Oh, sorry mate. Didn't see you there. How could I, the door was closed."

"I... You scared the hell out of me," he said, then silenced.

"Terribly sorry. I'm the Doctor by the way, and you are?"

"Mark," he said. Then after catching his breath, Mark's brain kicked into overdrive as he stared at the man in the suit who was standing in the doorway of his bathroom. "You're... you're... real? But... It's just a show!"

He nodded, then bit his lip in thought. This wasn't the first time he bumped into this kind of problem. He probably should have expected it. "Well..." he said. "Most of it. The scriptwriters embellished a lot, to give it some drama, and had to tone down the action a little. They had an hour to fill, and couldn't put in every little detail."

"But how? You're a character! Fiction!"

The Doctor smiled in that way the college student had seen so many times before on television. And he proceeded to explain, also in that same long-winded fashion. "One thing I've noticed over the years is that humans are like... you lot are like antennae, picking up signals from the rest of the universe without even realizing it. You pick up fragments of transmissions, in dreams or in the most random of moments, and you write them down, turn them into a good yarn, and then you're on the top seller's list. Amazing, really, your brains," he said, grinning. "But do you want to know the best part?"

The young man's eyes lit up as he was transfixed by such a bizarre curiosity. "Oh yes, please."

"I don't even know why! I suppose it's an evolutionary response to your particular location in the universe. This sector is a galactic hotspot of transmissions. Think of it as intergalactic Wi-Fi. And with the addition of your broadcasting satellites, it boosts the signals. Your brains are spongy receivers, encased in bone and wandering around this big blue and green ball, unaware of just how unique you are."

The Doctor found that he had lost the young man further back in his explanation than he'd originally thought, and discovered that the young man was texting quickly on his cellular phone.

"Oh my God, nobody's going to believe this," he said to himself, using the photo function of his phone to snap pictures of the space man and his ship. "This is just too much. Alex is just going to DIE!"

"Oi!" the Doctor exclaimed, reaching for the student's phone and grabbing it.

"Hey! I was in the middle of something!"

"Can't have you blabbing to everyone about me."

"Come on, just a few mates of mine. Really," he said. "Just one? Please? Alex is a real die-hard sci-fi nut. This'll really blow h-"

The Doctor sighed and handed the phone back. "Fine, fine. One picture."

"Oh, could you do that thing, like, sonic my phone? Roaming charges here are horrendous and I can barely manage to pay my share of the bill as it is."

"No," the Doctor said. "Come on then, take the picture and get on with it."

"Really? Not just this once?"

"Companion privileges only. Sorry Mark."

He hurried to the alien's side and snapped a picture of them together, then immediately sent it to his friend Alex, who he'd been texting with before.

"Dude... This is so freakin cool. The Tardis is in my bathroom. Next to where I shower."


	2. Chapter 2

**DISCLAIMER:**I don't own Doctor Who. It's owned, copyrighted, trademarked, and all sorts of fun things by the almighty lords and Masters at the BBC. However, this is pure crack!fic and yeah.... crack!tastic.

* * *

As the man at his table was jabbering on about the phenomenal properties of jam (which he had been so kind enough to bring out of the bathroom just over an hour and a half before beginning his speech professing his love for the stuff) Mark heard the faint sound of a lock.

His eyes grew wide as he looked at his watch, then flew into a panic. "Oh my God. Someone's coming."

"Oh?" the Doctor said, a mouthful of toast and jam. He wiped at his mouth with a napkin. "We'll have to make more toast."

Mark got up from the table and flew into the living room, just as the front door burst open and a bespectacled woman nearly stumbled into him.

"Remind me to yell at the landlord when I get back about that bloody door," she grumbled, righting herself.

"Ah... You're home early?" he said, but it came out more as a question than a statement. He glanced over his shoulder, back towards the kitchen, where he had left his unexpected visitor munching his toast and jam happily.

"Well, yeah. There's a Twilight Zone marathon starting in an hour, and I need to set my TiVo before I leave for the airport," she said, dropping her school bag on the couch and moving past him.

"You got your hair cut," he said, stepping into her path.

"You like it? The girl at the salon thought I was crazy when I pulled out a picture of David Tennant and said I wanted my hair done like that, and poofable too." She pushed past him, and his heart raced.

"Did you get my text messages earlier?"

"Yeah. I think you fell asleep in front of the telly again last night. That or you had way too much to drink."

"Yeah... that must be it."

He watched her start for the kitchen, but grabbed her arm. "Hey, I'll make you some tea and you go set up your TiVo."

She stared at him, then nodded with a smile. "Thanks. I could do for a cuppa right about now. And not any of that pansy stuff Jeremy likes. A good strong cuppa real tea."

He nodded, pointing her towards the hall. Once he was sure she was past the bathroom, he darted into the kitchen. "Oh God. What am I gonna do? There's a Time Lord in the kitchen, jam everywhere and Alex just got in."

"Don't forget-"

"Mark!..."

He cringed. "Oh dear..."

"Mark! Why is there a Tardis replica in the bathroom?"

"Erm..." he had just picked up the tea kettle when the Doctor jumped up from his seat, another piece of toast in one hand and jam on his tie.

"No, don't!" he shouted, running after him.

When he caught up with him, he found the Doctor munching on his toast in the doorway of the bathroom. He couldn't see Alex, who rather than freaking out like he had initially thought was instead running her hand over the corner of the Tardis with a concerned look on her face.

"You didn't use the blueprints from the Tardis Index File site, did you? The edges don't quite line up right. You cut the wood vertically instead of at an angle so the panels fit together. And why the hell did you put it in here?"

She turned to look at the man in her bathroom doorway, then to Mark trying to peer over his shoulder from behind.

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**_A/N - THERE WILL BE NO MORE OF THIS FOOLISH CRACK!TASTICNESS!!!! THIS IS ALL THAT THERE IS! At least, not THIS particular avenue of it._**


End file.
